


My Pleasure

by BlueFruitLoops



Series: Reddie Days [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Reddie Fairytales (IT), idk it’s just fluffy, reddie gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24355093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueFruitLoops/pseuds/BlueFruitLoops
Summary: IT chapter 2, but this is the real ending. Richie & Eddie are cute domestic husbands too...
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Reddie Days [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757074
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

"Richie! Richie, I killed it, I killed it!" Eddie grinned happily, turning around from where he sat on Richie's lap to show him. But it was moving. Growing. It was getting back up. 

"I'm gonna have to politely disagree on that one Eds," Richie replied, grabbing Eddie's torso and shoving him out of the way of an incoming spiked tentacle. They landed, chests flush against each other, with Richie on top and both very much alive - thank god. 

Richie didn't know what in fuck he would have done if Eddie was gone. 

Richie knew again, a feeling from so long ago that came back stronger, he wouldn't go on without Eddie. 

The losers got out of Neibolt as six. 

Richie, Billy, Bev, Mike, Ben... and Eddie. 

By grace of whatever fucking force was in charge, they were all still alive. 

Something changed that day, within Richie. He realized he had to say something, or Eddie would go right back to his life (as a goddamn risk assessor) and his wife. Richie had to tell him, he had to, at least to let him know. But by fucking god he was scared. 

As he sat in his hotel room, on the edge of his bed, with his hands on his knees and his glasses fogging up thanks to his deep breaths, he recited what he had planned to say. The seconds passed like they were dragging through mud, but five minutes felt like nothing at all. Before he was ready, before he knew it, there was a knock on his hotel door. 

"We're heading out now, Rich, the reservation is waiting and we don't want to make Mike wait alone at the restaurant," Beverly called through the door. 

Richie stared at his hands. "Is everyone going?" 

"Well, yeah," Ben replied. "You can come later if you want, but the rest of us are going now." 

Richie sighed, finally slumping out of his tensed position and tugging off his cracked glasses impatiently. He wiped them on the edge of his shirt and stood up, nearly toppling over with an intense wave of head rush. He steadied himself on the wall, then shook his head and put his glasses back on, heading to the door and stepping out. 

"Okay," he said curtly, shutting the door behind him and stepping past the others to start off down the stairs. He didn't look up from the ornately carpeted floor. "We're off." 

He supposed it was better to not make eye contact with any of them, rather than just avoiding Eddie's gaze. 

The restaurant was dimly lit, mahogany furniture with warm reds and purples dancing together throughout all the various fabrics that decorated each table. The atmosphere was rather welcoming and the food smelled delectable. 

Well, Richie supposed, better to get disowned by all of your childhood friends with some sort of enjoyment. 

A conversation picked up around the table, but Richie couldn't contribute. His thoughts consumed him whole, showing every possible route and every possible turn out. Essentially, they all seemed to end badly for Rich. 

He'd just have to rip off the bandaid. 

There was a lull in the conversation as more of the losers started to realize Richie wasn't feeling his best, and he smiled ruefully. 

Now or never. 

"Guys, don't let this change things..." he began, revising his words again and again before speaking. "Also, I know should have said something a damn long time ago, I know, but... well, here we are I guess," his voice was so much stronger than he felt. He sounded confident, like this was a skit he'd prepared for. He glanced up at Eddie's eyes for the first time since they'd escaped the sewers, and he took a deep breath. 

"I'm gay," he mumbled. 

There was a pause, then a very sarcastic "haw-haw" from Eddie. 

"Very funny, Tozier. You know it's twenty-sixteen right? You can't joke about shit like that," he huffed, seeming almost indignant. 

There was a low chuckle from around the table, in what seemed like a pity laugh for Richie's "joke". 

Richie looked around at them all, then back at Eddie, then back down at the table. "I'm not joking." 

There was a long pause. A very long, uncomfortable pause. 

"Well, good on you," Bill offered kindly. "I'm glad you trust us enough to tell us." There was a resounding hum of agreement from the others, but Eddie's face was just blank. He was staring down at the tablecloth like Richie had been just moments before. For the whole meal, he stayed quiet, like his mind was encasing him in some kind of trapping memories that he couldn't find a way out of. He took two pieces of baguette and didn't even order; Bev just ordered him a tomato bisque, of which he had approximately three bites. 

Richie was honestly terrified. He had escaped It's bloody grasp alive, but he was almost more scared of what Eddie was thinking. Thanks to this, the dinner seemed to drag on forever. Sure, he laughed sometimes and joked with the others, but he was scared shitless. When dessert was over, and they paid their bills, Richie walked in silence beside Eddie back to the hotel. 

Not a word was exchanged past, "watch out, there's a bike coming", the entire way. Richie kept trying to think of something to break the damned ice, the ice that was so thickly frozen on, but nothing he said could have done anything. He knew Eddie wouldn't open up to him. 

Arriving at the hotel felt almost as relieving as the moment It's lair crumbled, and falling into his bed face first was all he could have asked for. He was reminded how much he hated silence. 

Richie didn't bother changing out of his clothes, or getting up at all. He kicked off his shoes and flipped over to stare blankly at the cream-white ceiling. 

"Fuck," he breathed, letting his eyes fall shut. 

A soft knock at his door made him force them back open despite their weight, and sit up on the bed. 

"It's open," he called, voice completely unanimated. 

The door creaked open, and in shuffled a scared, teary-eyed Eddie. He pushed the door shut behind him and stood, unmoving, beside it. 

Richie had no goddamn clue what to say 

"Eds..." 

"You... you weren't joking, right?" 

Blinking in surprise, Richie shook his head. 

Eddie nodded, registering the information. "How long have you known?" 

Odd question. 

"Uh, like... since forever, I guess. Since we were kids," Richie replied, still very lost. 

"How did you figure it out?" 

Even odder. 

"I liked someone?" Richie asked, more to himself than Eddie. Then, he nodded, affirming his own question. "I love someone." 

Eddie's shoulders fell, and he huffed. "Well, I um... I'm- I... I'm..." 

"You're starting to sound like billy," Richie quipped. 

"I'm fucking gay, and I love someone too," Eddie spat, pursing his lips and shutting his eyes. 

Even more taken aback than before, Richie stumbled over his words. "B-but you're married," he finally managed to say. 

"To my own fucking mother, basically," Eddie muttered. "And I'm going back to her tomorrow," he added softly. 

"So..." Richie's mind reeled. "S-So..." 

"I guess maybe that means I'll never see you after tonight. And I guess that means I can tell you," he mumbled, seemingly debating within himself wether or not to say it. "Yeah," he decided, nodding dutifully and looking up directly into his eyes. "It's you, Richie, I love you." 

Richie blinked, his glasses beginning to fog and almost slide off his face. As he opened his mouth to speak, his voice caught in his throat and he forgot what he was going to say. He shut it again, then opened it. 

"Y-you— you— you.." he stuttered, trying to make sense of what was going on in his mind. 

"Yeah, I'll go," Eddie mumbled, turning towards the door. 

"No!" Richie replied, way louder than necessary. "I-I mean, no. Stay with me." 

Eddie pursed his lips and turned around, looking lost but hopeful. 

"Let's... can I show you something? I'm gonna show you something. You should— you should come with me, I'll show you something," he blabbered, honestly just trying to stop himself from tearing up. He walked to the door, reaching behind Eddie for the doorknob. He realized their position only when Eddie's face went pink and he looked to his shoes. Richie swallowed hard, pulling open the door. 

"Um, after you," he breathed. 

They walked through the small town slowly, not in any hurry, and for the first time Richie really looked at the place. Nothing felt the same. 

"Look," he murmured. "The church used to be there, the one we used to meet Bev at when she skipped Sunday school?" 

Eddie followed Richie's gaze to see a brightly-lit 24-hour Drug Mart, and briefly let himself wonder how it was affecting old Keene. 

"The church... means we're almost there." 

"The barrens?" Eddie asked, the first time he'd opened his mouth since they left the hotel. 

Richie grinned, shaking his head and stopping in the centre of the road. 

"The bridge? Richie, why are we..."

He watched as Richie approached the white, weathered fence and stooped to examine it closely. "Here," he murmured. Eddie shuffled over, squinting at where Richie's finger pointed. 

With the light from the barn beside the bridge, Eddie could just make out a series of deep slashes. 

R + E 

"Richie, what—" 

"I carved that when we were thirteen, Eddie. Fucking thirteen years old and I was already in love with you," he said, staring at the carving that had been painted over years ago with a fresher coat of white. He slipped his hand down the inside pocket of his jacket, and popped open his switchblade. "And now, twenty seven years later, here I am. Still in love with you." He knelt down beside the fence, starting to scratch off the white paint from the R, when he heard a soft sniffle and a huff from behind him. 

Richie turned around to see Eddie with pursed lips and teary eyes, biting his pointer finger to keep from fully crying. Richie's heart sank. "Eds? Are you okay?" 

Eddie nodded eagerly, kneeling down beside Richie. "I'm so fucking okay, Rich, for once in my life. Fucking, carve it man," he huffed, grinning through his tears. Richie nodded, biting his lip to suppress the biggest smile of his life and finishing off the R. He carved out the plus sign, then handed the knife to Eddie. 

"Care to do the honours?" he asked. Eddie smiled and took the knife from Richie's outstretched hand. 

"My pleasure."


	2. Epilogue

"What the fuck is this?" Eddie asked, stepping past Richie towards the path of rose petals he was being shooed towards. 

"You'll see! I promise. You're gonna like it," he replied. 

"You haven't changed," Eddie murmured. "Or perhaps you have? I mean, it isn't even our anniversary, and the beeswax candles are out and lit. You planned something didn't you?" 

"Uh," Richie grinned. "Guilty. Now follow the fuckin' path, come on!" 

"Shut the fuck up," Eddie breathed, laughing as he followed the trail of red petals and white candles down the short front hallway of the apartment. It opened up into a living room with a kitchen off to one side and a table in the centre of the kitchen. The kitchen table was decorated with more candles (Richie had done some shopping) and two plates filled with something Eddie couldn't quite make out in the low candlelight. 

"Richie, you didn't..." Eddie grinned, turning to face his husband. 

"I did... my best," Richie replied, itching his neck abashedly. 

"Well you are the best," Eddie placed his hand on Richie's cheek, pulling him in for a quick kiss and then sitting down. His heart swelled when he got a closer look at the plating and the cutlery; Richie had gotten out the silver and the red "Fancy Napkins" as he called them. They were folded neatly, the fork and knife tucked into it just like in a restaurant. But what really made him happy was the food on the plate. 

It was a plate of green pea-speckled mac and cheese (Richie's favourite and, undoubtedly, the only meal he knew how to cook), with some hot sauce in a little shot glass. When Eddie examined this, Richie was quick to explain the fact that "we don't have one of those little pourer things, it's not a shot". 

Taking a deep breath, Richie pulled out his secret weapon from behind him and began playing the opening tune. Eddie burst out laughing, while Richie remained completely deadpan. 

He finished the opening music on the purple kazoo, and began to sing and he sprinkled rose petals over his husband. 

"We're no strangers to loooove,  
You know the rules, and so! do IIIIIII,  
A full commitment's what I'm thinking ooofffff,  
You wouldn't get this from, any other guyy," he sang, Eddie laughing uncontrollably from where he sat at the table, covered in rose petals. 

Richie slapped a hand to his chest, and continued with a fiery passion.   
"IIIIIIII just wanna tell you how I'm feeeeliiiiing,   
Gotta make you understannnd,   
Never gonna give you uuup," he threw his arms around Eddie, singing as he danced around the table with grand, dramatic gestures.   
"Never gonna let you do-o-own,   
never gonna," he mimed running in slow motion, "run aro-o-ound, and, desert you." 

He smiled lovingly, briefly watching Eddie laugh, then continuing his serenade. 

"Never gonna make! you! cry,   
never gonna... SAY goodby-y-ye,   
Never gonna tell a li-i-ie, or hurt you." 

With one final musical interlude on the kazoo, Richie finished and took a deep bow, letting his glasses tumble to the floor as Eddie clapped. When he stood back up, Eddie was out of his seat and flying towards him. Richie barely had time to prepare before he was struck at full-speed by his husband's body, and he melted into the warm hug. 

Eddie pulled back and, without a word, tugged him into a deep kiss. 

When he pulled away again, beaming, Richie scratched his neck again. 

"Food's getting cold," he mumbled, making Eddie giggle and turn back to his seat across from where Richie was sitting down. He held up his wine glass, already full of a his favourite dry white which sat out on the table. 

"Cheers," he murmured, letting Richie complete the action. They each took a drink, then dug in. 

With the first couple bites—although Eddie loved it don't get him wrong—he could tell thanks to the little shards of crispy cheese that it was just a little bit burnt. But he held his tongue; it was endearing. 

"Hey, Richie?" he asked. 

"Mm?" 

"I love you." 

"I love you too."


End file.
